


The Dance of Two Spirits

by Lif61 (UltimateFandomTrash)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Book 3: Fire, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, F/M, Feels, Fluff and Angst, POV Zuko (Avatar), Zutara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25295200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateFandomTrash/pseuds/Lif61
Summary: No matter what Zuko does, he can't seem to win over Katara. He tries and tries, and even gives her some space. But she seems to hate him. If that's so, then why does Zuko love her? And what can he do about it?
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 86





	The Dance of Two Spirits

Zuko wasn’t sure what to do when he found Katara standing in the doorway in the room he’d been given at the Western Air Temple. He tried to raise his hand to say hello, though it was caught in the loops of his pack, which subsequently went swinging and clattering to the floor. A few of his belongings rolled right to her feet. Katara ignored them, eyes surprisingly hot and fiery for a waterbender. She stepped over his belongings and right towards him.

“You might have everybody else fooled with this nice guy act,” she told him, “but you and I both know you’ve failed at doing the wrong thing before. In Ba Sing Se, you could’ve joined us, you could’ve helped. But no. Your stupid honor was more important than the right thing. And it got Aang hurt. More hurt than any of us have ever been. So you step one toe out of line, you give me one reason to believe that you’ll hurt Aang, and you won’t have to worry about your destiny anymore. Because I’ll end it. Permanently.”

Zuko’s insides were all twisted up, the guilt in him painful, the actual fear of this woman before him sending cold shock all the way down to his toes.

Was there any promise he could make her that she would believe? No, definitely not. In this moment there was just her anger. 

“Katara, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She placed her hands on his chest, and shoved him back, and he hated the thrill that went through him at her touch.

“Ha, really? Because you did. I have half a mind to hurt _you_.”

Zuko stood there, vulnerable, held his arms out, and then said, “Do it.”

They stood there, facing each other, eyes burning, breathing heavy, the tension heavy in the air.

Katara turned from him, and made to leave instead, breaking their intense stare. “No. You’re not worth it. You’re just a pathetic runaway Prince. Don’t come to lunch.”

Zuko went to lunch anyway, and he sat near Aang and Sokka. To his surprise, Toph wanted to sit with him too. Katara sat with the others and just glared, and went against all customs of eating and stabbed at her food with her chopsticks.

The rest of the day he spent helping Sokka care for their weapons. They had to be sharpened, polished, and checked over for any imperfections. Everything seemed good, but Zuko liked the work. He needed it.

At night, he lay awake, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Eventually, he got up, and started viciously punching his pillow, screaming.

In a blast of anger, he punched at it, fire shooting from his fist. Zuko then grabbed his head, and growled, hating himself, angered, and he collapsed onto the floor.

“Why can’t I just do the right thing?” he asked himself. “Even when I’m good I’m bad.”

He tried to think of what his uncle might say, but he couldn’t think of anything. There was just dark. He breathed fire, trying to add light to the room. Trying to add warmth, and proof that he was there, that this wasn’t all just a dream.

And there she was, in his doorway again.

Zuko just rested his arms over his knees, and spat at her, “What do you want?”

“Peaceful sleep that’s not interrupted by some guy having a breakdown. If I knew you were this emotional, I could’ve tried to take you out sooner.”

“Well aren’t you a compassionate little girl,” he teased.

“Oh, like I’m the one with the problem here?”

“Everyone else has accepted me,” he responded, getting to his feet, and brushing himself off.

“Good for you.”

“Are you just here to pick a fight?” Zuko asked, then spreading his legs apart, crouching low, toes pointed slightly outwards. “Because I can give it to you.”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you.”

“You’d like that!” Zuko retorted.

Suddenly, water was whipping from the pouch at Katara’s back, and hurtling towards him. It was cold as it slapped his face and neck, and sent him back. His first response was to kick out, fire coming from his foot. Katara had already brought the water back, twirling it around her, and putting out the fire he’d flung at her. Now she stood, ready, water around her arms and reaching outwards. Zuko had a hand out, palm open, his other close to his chest, ready to punch, while his other would be used for blocking.

“You think you can win this,” Katara told him.

“I’m not trying to win _anything_ ,” he told her. “I just want to help the avatar.”

Katara sniffed disapprovingly. “Sure you do.”

She went on the offensive again. Zuko dodged, spun, and then punched at the ground, sending fire from his fist radiating out in a semi-circle along the stone floor that made Katara jump. Ice was flung at him, and he sent up a wall of fire to block it. It melted, the water boiling in the air.

“This is ridiculous,” he told her, even as they started carefully stepping around the room, not letting go of their stances. Zuko noticed they drew closer and closer. “We’re acting like children.”

“Then stand down.”

He gave a laugh. “As if.”

They sent their elements at each other, and they crashed together, sending a loud _BOOM!_ through the room, and they both went flying backwards. Katara toppled over onto his bed, and Zuko hit the wall. Seeing his opportunity, he came running at her, made a fire dagger and jumped, ready to put it down beside her head as a warning. Ice locked over his hand, and the weight had him tipping, falling on top of her.

“Get off me!” she complained.

Zuko tried, but the ice over his hand had him slipping. He started firebending to melt it.

“Yeah, like this is my fault.”

He fell, then tried bracing himself over her with a hand on either side of her head. It didn’t go unnoticed by him that he had one leg in between her thighs, which were spread ever so slightly. Zuko felt hot, but no longer from their fight.

Katara was breathing heavy, but she was looking right at his lips. Then her eyes fell, disappointment seeming to wash through her. Breaths evened out, voice soft, she told him, “Get off.”

Zuko obeyed.

Katara left him, the room in shambles, and he flopped down onto the bed, still feeling her warmth where she’d lay for just a moment.

He didn’t get any sleep that night.

Katara was passing Zuko in the hall, and despite what had happened a few nights ago, he raised his hand, and said, “Hey, Katara.”

She just sighed, and continued walking.

When she was out of sight, Zuko smacked the flat of his palm to his forehead.

Why was this so difficult? Why was _she_ so difficult?

A few days passed and Zuko still found Katara being cold to him, even with the heat and tension that flickered between them. It almost felt like when he redirected lightning, like that dangerous spark and crackle was in the air between them. Was it going to build? Dissipate? Would they do anything about it? Zuko didn’t even know what he wanted to do about it, but when he let his mind wander, he found he just wanted to kiss Katara and hold her close. He’d wanted to do that for a long time.

He was practicing his firebending, and Katara her waterbending, when they bumped into each other, getting in each other’s space. But instead of anger, she was blushing, cheeks nearly a bright red. Her water fell to the ground, soaking it, and his fire went out. He rubbed at the back of his head, feeling his cheeks heat, trying to avoid her gaze, but he found himself just looking at her body.

Stupid!

“Uh, sorry about that,” he said. “You’re… You’re pretty good at bending.”

Katara paused, but then said, “Uh… you too.”

They shuffled away from each other and didn’t talk for two days.

On day three of the silent treatment, Katara sat beside Zuko at breakfast, surprising him immensely. He almost got up and walked away, going over to Sokka, who had shown him a lot of kindness since joining the group. His legs tensed, feet tapping against the ground for a second, and he almost dropped his bowl of rice.

She just sat there, eating, not saying anything.

Zuko ignored her mouth, and just looked away, into the open air, and the cliffside.

What was she _doing_?

Without an explanation, she finished eating, and then left.

Zuko couldn’t finish his breakfast.

Yet again, Katara was standing in his doorway, but instead of hot anger, there was something cool and cold, maybe almost calming. Her head was down, and she held her arm against her side, as if trying to cover herself or to find something to do with her body while she faced him.

“Zuko…”

There was a heavy pause between them, and he sat up on his bed, giving her his full attention. His heart and spirit were blown wide open, vulnerable, ready to be commanded by her, to follow her every whim. He yearned to have her, to show her a different kind of fire, to feel her cool, strong spirit right up against his. These thoughts had him looking at her with wide eyes, stomach twisted into knots.

“I’m sorry.”

His eyebrow raised in surprise, and before he could say anything, she left.

Sleeping that night was a little easier.

The day after that, she avoided him again, and Zuko kept trying to chase her down, but she always seemed to be one step ahead of him, maybe even two.

Zuko sat down with Aang, taking out his dual swords to inspect them, while Aang played with Momo.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Aang asked.

“Katara,” Zuko muttered. “I can’t seem to get through to her. It’s like I make progress, and then she runs away from me.”

Aang gave an innocent laugh. “She is pretty used to doing that.”

Zuko glared, fuming. Aang held up his hands, which Momo thought meant more playtime, and he jumped at Aang, nearly knocking him off balance.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Maybe you should let her come to you.”

“She does. Sometimes,” Zuko admitted. “But then she leaves again, and it’s like whatever we talked about never happened.”

“Maybe she’s hurt,” Aang told him.

“What?” Zuko asked.

“You know. This war has been hard on everyone. It’s all she knows. Maybe…” Aang paused, seeming to be fishing around for the right words, and then he found them: “she doesn’t know how to be a teenager.”

“Maybe.”

Aang then asked, “Do you?”

Zuko sat, staring into the pile of dry wood that would eventually be used for their cookfire.

“I… don’t know,” he answered, finding himself feeling desolate.

Aang put a hand on his shoulder, now standing before him, a boy wise beyond his years, and filled with god-like power. “You both need to heal. Don’t force it. Let time lead you both to the same path.”

Zuko actually found himself smiling, if only faintly. “Thanks, Aang.”

And then that goofy kid was back. “Hey, want to see me fly around with my glider and shoot fire out of my feet so I can go super fast?”

Zuko laughed. “Yeah.”

Aang let out a delighted whoop, grabbed his glider, and took to the air, zooming away, the force of the fire blasting from his feet sending him in an uncontrolled hurtle towards the other side. Zuko held his stomach as he laughed. Aang was laughing too.

And unbeknownst to him, Katara was watching from near the fountain, feeling closer to him than she ever had.

A few days later, while Zuko was training, Katara came to him, staying at a safe distance.

He gave her the benefit of the doubt, and paused his training, looking at her expectantly.

“Zuko, can we talk?”

“Yeah.” His voice came out cracked, and weak. And then he tried again after clearing his throat, “Yeah.” Yep, that was better.

She came towards him, and he knelt on the ground, Katara following suit. She didn’t meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry about how I’ve been treating you,” she told him. “I would tell you why I did it, but I think you already know. We did connect, back in Ba Sing Se, and I guess I was just sad when we lost that.”

“We can get it back,” Zuko told her, heart hammering against his ribcage, even as his voice was steady, and calm. His palms were sweating, and he wiped them against his pant leg.

“That’s the thing.” She finally looked up at him, her ice blue eyes kind; joyful, even. “I think we have.”

Suddenly she was flinging herself into his arms, and Zuko couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t do anything. That was until he realized his arms were out awkwardly around her and he hadn’t hugged her back. Then he wrapped them around her, pulling her close. She ducked her head under his.

Zuko just held her, only thinking about her, the world outside non-existent.

Katara. He was _holding Katara_!

“I’m sorry, Zuko,” she said again, into his chest, breath whispering over the part of him that his tunic left bare. 

The hair along his arms stood on end.

He pulled her into his lap, hardly able to believe what was happening, but knowing what he had to say. “No, I’m the one who should be apologizing. I hunted you, I hurt you. You’re a good person, Katara, and you didn’t deserve what I did to you. You’ve been fighting this war so bravely, and I’ve been on the wrong side. But now I’m here, willing to fight it with you, if… if you’ll have me.”

In answer, she brought her head up, grabbed his face, and kissed him. Zuko’s eyes widened in surprise, and he went slack, but then he kissed her back. And for a second, everything felt right in the world. The war faded away, the separation of the four nations was gone. They melded together, and there was balance between them.


End file.
